Memory
by GinnyMarie
Summary: A memory tickles at both Harry and Ginny as he prepares to leave his relatives' home for the last time, and once they relive it, the tears will fall.


**Memory**  
_Tricia Marie_

A memory tickled at the back of Harry Potter's mind as he watched Ginny Weasley enter through the door of Number four, Privet Drive. She was there to pick him up via portkey. It was his last time on Privet Drive, as he was now of age. He smiled at her while he dragged his trunk down the stairs into the entry hall. To his delight, she smiled back. He loved her smile, especially the one she was flashing right at that moment: the one that was meant for him, and only him.

He finally reached the bottom landing and set his trunk down. Ginny came towards him and gave him a swift kiss on the lips. He smiled at her again.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"One minute. I've got to make sure that the cupboard doesn't have anything of mine in it." He walked towards the cupboard — his cupboard, which had been his for nine years of his life. He opened the door and entered the room for the first time in six years. Again a memory tickled at the back of his mind: one that was just out of his reach. He sensed, more than saw, Ginny come up behind him as he crouched inside the small cupboard.

"Harry?" Her voice was very small and tentative. He turned around and faced her. "Harry, I think — I think that I've been here before." A memory had begun tugging at the back of her mind as well as soon as she had entered the house, and it only intensified as she saw Harry crouching in the small space.

"What do you mean, Gin?" asked Harry. Seeing Ginny, standing just where she was standing, intensified the memory tugging at his mind as well.

"When I was younger. Five maybe. I don't know for sure." Then it all clicked in Harry's mind. The memory, as if called by her words, began to play out in his mind.

Six-year-old Harry Potter sat in his cupboard, under one of his weeklong punishments. He had been thrown in there by his aunt, and would remain until his uncle came home. This, he knew would be his real punishment. He would still be confined to his cupboard, but after his uncle was through with him, he would be unconscious for much of it, he was sure.

Harry, in his short six years, had learned to do whatever his 'family' told him to do. Make breakfast. Do the laundry. Don't ask questions. Everything that they told him to do, he did, without question.

Even when he did everything asked of him, he still received beatings. His life was a miserable one, and he hated it. Sometimes he wished that his parents would one day find him and take him home. That his parents weren't really dead, but he knew, deep down, that he was just wishing; that, for the rest of his life, he would be a freak, an outcast, nothing more than a pauper. It was at times like these, that he wished he had died along with them.

Just as Harry was falling asleep, as there was not much else he could do, he heard the front door open. He listened intently as his uncle's footsteps made their way towards the kitchen. He heard his aunt say something, and then the undeniable sounds of his uncle bellowing his name.

Harry sat up straight, prepared to face the beating with his head held up high. The door to the cupboard was wrenched open, revealing a purple-faced Vernon Dursley. The whale of a man had a bat in his hand, prepared to beat his nephew within an inch of his life. He grabbed the six-year-old boy's shirt and hauled him out of the cupboard, a look of rage on his face.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL FREAK!" bellowed Vernon as he brought the bat down upon his nephew's back. Harry felt pain beyond belief grip him, but he didn't yell. That only gave his uncle satisfaction. He had learned that the beatings lasted longer if he cried out, so he had opted to be quiet and take the torture silently, in hopes that it would be shorter and less painful.

The beating took a turn for the worse. His uncle, who seemed to have thought he committed a sin against humanity, and whom had had a bad day at work that day, started aiming for every inch of his body. The only place he avoided was the boy's head and neck, for fear of what the neighbors might say if he suddenly vanished from sight. They might call the police, and then he would end up in jail. No, he definitely didn't want that, so he beat the boy just a few inches away from killing him.

Just as he was starting to go back on his decision to not hit the boy in the head, there was a knock on the door. "Just a moment!" he called. He threw his nephew into the cupboard under the stairs, muttering, "Make a sound boy, and you won't leave this cupboard for a month." He locked the door vehemently and then made his way to the front one to see who had disrupted the punishment of his nephew.

When he opened the door, he found himself facing two redheaded people: a woman and child. "Can I help you?" he barked at them.

"So sorry, sir," began the woman, "but we were on our way to see a friend in the area and we got lost. Could you tell us where Wisteria Walk is?"

"Yes, yes. I can give you a map if you wish." He said, seeing that they were normal, upstanding people just like himself.

"Yes, that would help a great deal. My name is Molly Weasley and this is my daughter Ginny," said the woman, Molly, kindly. "We are terribly sorry to be bothering you, but we have no idea where we are. We live near Devon, so we are slightly out of our element."

"Quite all right. My name's Vernon Dursley." he led them into the kitchen. 

"Ginny, why don't you wait out here, but don't touch anything. We wouldn't want any of Mr. Dursley's things to be broken, especially since he is being so nice and everything, correct?"

"Yes, Mummy, I won't touch a thing. I promise." She watched the two walk into the kitchen and close the door behind them. The five-year-old looked around herself, taking in her surroundings. She noticed several pictures on the mantle in the sitting room, but didn't dare leave the hall that she was in.

Suddenly she heard a noise from the cupboard under the stairs that were to her right. She checked to make sure that no one was around her and went up to the door. Looking through the slots in the door, she saw a little boy, curled up in a ball, on makeshift mattress.

"Hello?" she whispered. The boy didn't move. "Hello? Are you alright?"

Finally, in a small voice, he replied, "I'm not supposed to make a sound."

"That's not what I asked," said Ginny. "I asked if you were alright. Are you?"

"I suppose so," he replied hesitantly. "It wasn't the worst one that I've had. If you and your mum hadn't come, I don't know what would've happened, but I'm sure he would've stopped. He always does."

"What are you talking about?" whispered Ginny.

"My uncle. He would have stopped hitting me eventually, he always does."

"Your uncle hit you," she asked in a horrified voice.

"Yeah. I got a better grade in my class than Dudley today, and Aunt Petunia told my uncle, and he wasn't happy. Said that I had cheated, or something," he paused, and then his voice took on a very panicked tone. "But I didn't, I swear. I didn't cheat on the test. Ms. Grey just messed up on the scoring, that's all. I swear that I didn't mean to do better. I tried to get as many wrong as I could, but I…I…"

"Your uncle hit you because you did good on something?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah. I'm not supposed to get better marks than my cousin, Dudley."

"That's not right. That's not right at all. Are you hurt?" her voice was very caring and Harry moved towards the slots in the door to look out of them.

"No worse than normal, like I said."

"You mean that you get hit a lot?"

"Yes. It's not a big deal. I just mess up. I got a beating last week because I made my cousin's breakfast wrong. I put too much milk in his eggs, and he got mad. I didn't have any food for two days and was locked in here for three. This time, I'll be in here for at least a week, but since you and your mum interrupted my uncle, it will probably be longer." His voice was dejected and Ginny could tell, just by the sound of it, that he was looking down.

"My name's Ginny," she said kindly, trying to be friendly and get off the subject that made her want to got and take her mum's wand and hex that man with the worst hex she knew — the bat-bogey hex.

"Mine's Harry." He heard her come closer to the door and start to fumble with the lock. "Don't. It will only make it worse. And please, please don't tell Uncle Vernon that I talked to you. I won't be out of here for a year. Please."

"No, I'm opening this door. I have to make sure you're all right. If you aren't, then Mummy and I will get you to a hospital. I don't think you could go to St. Mungo's because you're a muggle, but we could take you to somewhere where you could be taken care of." In her voice was a determination that stopped all of Harry's protests. Ginny unlocked the door and slowly opened it. She gasped when she saw the state of the boy. "You're not all right at all," she muttered. He was already turning black and blue in many places. He had some blood dripping from a cut on his arm and it looked as it he had a few broken bones and ribs. As if that weren't enough, the five-year-old noticed that he was incredibly skinny. "How can you stand it? It looks as if you're in a lot of pain."

"Ginny, I'm fine. I'm used to the pain, so it's not all that bad. Don't worry about it."

"But…but you're so skinny and you're all bruised. You are not all right. I'm going to go get Mummy; she can take care of you." He reached out and grabbed her arm as she turned towards the kitchen door.

"Ginny, please, don't tell your mum. It will only make him even madder. The beatings are bearable, but if he finds out that I talked to someone about them, then they will get worse. He might even use a knife or something, and that's only happened once."

"He used a knife on you?" Ginny said in a scandalized voice. 

"Yeah. I had burnt myself on the stove, so I had gone to the sink, and when I came back, the bacon was burnt. The burn also caused me to drop the coffee pot, making it shatter and coffee to go all over the place. The glass cut me, because I was told to clean it up. Uncle Vernon used his belt later on, and then he also used the knife to slice a deep cut on my arm." He held up his arm, showing her a white scar, "See?" he asked.

"Oh, Harry. I'm going to go get Mummy right now, and we are going to take you to a hospit —"

"Ginny?" called a voice from the kitchen. "Ginny, we are getting ready to leave."

"No, Ginny don't. I'll be fine, I promise. It isn't that bad," said Harry quickly before closing himself in the cupboard. "Ginny, please, don't tell my uncle that I talked to you. It will only get worse if you do that. And please lock the door. He wouldn't be happy if he thought that I had somehow unlocked it."

"Harry…"

"No, it's fine. Please, just go. I'll be fine." Ginny whipped around at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the kitchen door. She hastily locked the door and stepped as far away from the cupboard as she possibly could.

"Harry," she whispered before the kitchen door opened. "Harry, I'm going to save you. If not today, then I will someday. I promise." The door to the kitchen opened, revealing her mother and Mr. Dursley. It was all the little girl could do not to walk up to her mother, steal her wand, and hex the man into next week. She settled for glaring at the man as her mother took her hand, thanking Mr. Dursley for all of his help, and pulling Ginny from the house.

"Mummy, we have to go back," said Ginny urgently as they descended the drive. 

"Why is that, Ginny?"

"We have to help Harry." Her mother gave her a questioning look so she continued. "That man, Mr. Dursley, beat Harry. He has broken bones, I'm sure of it. Please, Mummy, we have to go save him. I promised."

"Ginny, I didn't see anyone. And don't accuse people of such things. It's not nice."

"Mummy, please," said Ginny, her voice pleading. 

"Where did you see this…this Harry?"

"He was in the cupboard under the stairs. He was hurt. Really hurt. Mummy, we have to go help. Please."

"No Ginevra." It was obvious to Ginny that her mother wasn't really listening, just indulging. They had reached the corner of Privet Drive and were about to leave the street. Ginny glanced back at Number four and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered into the dusk. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you."

Ginny was sobbing into his shoulder, causing a wet spot to appear. Her sobs were wracking, and it was breaking Harry's heart.

"Shh, Gin, it's alright. Everything is fine," he whispered, a tear or two of his own escaping and rolling down his face to plop into her red locks.

"N — no. It- it's not all right. I should — should have insisted that we c — come back and h — help you." She sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I couldn't save you. I couldn't help."

"Ginny, you did help. More than you know," he whispered into her ear.

"How?" she asked, pulling away from him to look into his green orbs.

"You gave me hope," explained Harry as he wiped the tears from her face with the pads of his thumbs. "You gave me hope that there were people out there that cared; that there were people who were good and kind-hearted." He leaned down and gave her a tender, yet passionate, kiss. "I love you, Ginny." He whispered.

"I love you, too, Harry."

_A/N: Too lazy to do a proper authors note. Hope you enjoyed. Review, please?_

_ Cheers,_

_Tricia _


End file.
